God Only Knows
by Elenko
Summary: Victoria figured it wouldn't hurt celebrating her best friend Alicia's birthday in Santa Monica. Little did she know she sealed her fate when she headed off to the city by the sea. Set pre-VTMB. Oc x ? Story. Longer story to unfold.
1. Just Once

I figured it wouldn't hurt. You know, breaking the rules **once**. Going against my parents' wishes and actually doing something for myself. The naive me honestly thought it wasn't going to hurt. Everything would be fine. Sure, I would be yelled at; perhaps even hit if my dad was in a really bad mood.

Nothing prepared me for being thrust into what felt like a new world, new responsibility and new rules of conduct.

My friend Alicia turned 21 and wanted to celebrate. I said fine, knowing full well this wasn't going to sit well with my parents. But I had agreed. It was so stupid. So very stupid. In addition to celebrating her 21st birthday, she was also going to see her oh so dumb surfer boyfriend in Santa Monica. I agreed to accompany her, and that's what eventually sealed my fate.

It's funny, how different answers and choices could potentially change the course of our lives. If you look back, you can see each choice that leads you to where you are now. I wish I could have seen that back in those days. But I didn't, of course, pretty hard to do unless you can see into the future.

No, I hadn't been very smart as I stole liquor from my dad's liquor cabinet. I knew mom would get a beating for it in the morning, but I convinced myself it might not happen. It might not. Right?

Additionally I had pocketed some of the loose cash he had lying around the house, packed my bag with the bare essentials and left. It was exhilarating.

Alicia had been waiting for me for around an hour when I finally showed up. Surprise was written on her face until it changed to a satisfied smirk. She flicked the cigarette over to some poor sods house and seated herself in the car.

I remember we played loud music, giggling madly as we listened to crappy music, taking sips from the brandy bottle I had stolen. She had eyed me when I pulled it out, before losing herself to a full-blown, maddening cackle. "_Brandy?_" She had asked with a humorous glint her eyes. I had shrugged, battling the blush that crept up on my cheeks. I remember how angry and embarrassed I had felt, popping the cork off and taking one long sip before replying, "_if you don't want it, I'll drink it myself_".

She had shook her head, keeping one hand on the wheel while taking a long sip. She grimaced and handed it back to me. My insides burned, from what I assumed was alcohol, but now, I can't help but to wonder if it was a premonition. We should have turned back. But we didn't. We didn't...

Santa Monica was awaiting us, and we felt alive for the first time in forever. Alcohol, excitement, and whatever else we had stuffed inside us was bubbling up. This was, I remember, how life should feel like. Truly being alive.

Funny how things work out.


	2. Kindred Don't Cry

Kindred don't cry. We don't feel the same emotions we did when we were human. We don't... feel sympathy. That's why I watched Alicia die. I knew she was bleeding out on the floor to her apartment. I battled the feelings that crashed over me, not sure what purpose they served.

It was good she was dying. She was, for all intents and purposes, a link to my old life. She knew what I had become. I had broken the masquerade in order for our friendship to remain the same. It didn't, of course. She asked me questions, about my place in the vampire society. She asked me to turn her, or to introduce her to someone who could do it for me.

When Lacroix told me she needed to go, I nodded. I had complied to his request. A man, 30 years or so, had been the killer. Madness worked in various ways, I noted. Since my embrace by the cackling idiot, I had grown resilient to things that would harm my psyche. Probably because it was cracked beyond repair.

I also noted I had a knack for inducing madness into others. The man had been easy. And Alicia, she had died. She had been looking at me the entire time. Her eyes wide in horror and pain. It wasn't the man mangling her that caused the look, it was the realization I was a monster. And for once in my undead life, I felt the stinging sensation in my eyes. It was the same sensation I felt when my dad hit mom or me. It didn't subside, even when I blinked.

Once her dead glaze looked back at me, I ordered the man to kill himself. And he did, without a complaint. He jammed the knife repeatedly into his stomach, groaning with each thrust. It sickened me. I had turned to leave when he glanced over to me. Still jamming the knife into his intestines.

The pained, horrid look in his eyes... I couldn't stop the giggle that erupted in my throat when I caught it. It wasn't until I was in the cab that I felt the tears slide down my now pale skin, down my throat and onto the black dress Lacroix had given me.

No, kindred don't cry. Or at least that's what we tell ourselves.


	3. Giggling Madness

A/N: As you may have noticed, the two earlier parts are more one-shot type of things. There's a real story being written out, though. As you may have noticed, the OC is insane due to the curse. Which means her thoughts are a bit jumbled together. I hope no one will be too confused and I will try to make it flow naturally but eh, I may jump a bit back and forth. Nothing too bad, I hope.

I will eventually get to the part Alicia is killed, which hasn't quite happened yet. It will probably make sense. If nothing else I'll blame it on the OC and her insanity and hope people will buy it.

* * *

"_Do I make myself clear?"_ Sebastian Lacroix asked me over his clasped hands. I nodded, compelling my sire to do the same. It was a miracle we were both "alive". My siring was apparently not planned, if the four hour long meeting was to disclose anything.

Despite the potentiality of my impending death, I had been distracted by everything and nothing. My hands had been neatly clasped in my knee while my eyes had done the exploration. I had noted the stiff man who stood next to the Prince. I had noted his lifeless eyes and then imagined him as a wardrobe. My giggle turned into a forced down snort, but I didn't miss the look Lacroix gave me. It was one where I was promised a slow death if I interrupted him again.

It was hard. I was a Malkavian. Things didn't necessarily have to make sense for me to snicker and let my insanity show through. The seriousness of the situation often allowed me to find things amusing, as if I wanted to lighten the mood.

After the meeting was done, my sire stayed behind to talk to Prince Lacroix. I headed to our "home" and spent a good week doing absolutely nothing until I realized my sire hadn't been home at all. Or had I just forgotten it? Days bled into each other, my grip on this reality was fleeting at best.

I had stopped in the midst of walking down the stair when I had come to the realization my sire was probably not even alive anymore. No one crosses the jester and lives. I had no idea how I had come to the realization or why. I just knew. Bloody Malkavian curse.

My skin felt like it was burning. My throat was dry. Running my hands through my hair, I felt the greasy consistency and knots that had formed. I scratched my hands, trying to tear the feeling out from my skin. The feeling subsided only when I seated myself outside the freezer, its door open, cooling me off.

As for my tongue, it felt thick and misplaced in my mouth. I hummed a bit until I managed to drag myself up to a standing position. I walked lazily to the bathroom and stepped into the showers. I didn't even know how I got the shower started, I had no recollection on me turning a handle. All I could feel was a cold burst of water, encasing my entire body and clothes with its droplets.

When I finally managed to get myself to the Jester's tower, I was beginning to regret my decision. I looked like a hot mess. My hair was still tangled, although sort-of clean. My clothes were messy and I actually looked a lot like how I felt. Disheveled. Dangerous. Crazy.

The security guard scrambled on his feet when I walked in. He showered me with questions I paid little heed to. All I saw was his Adam's apple, bobbing up and down as he spoke. His veins... were...calling to me. He probably thought I was collapsing on him, which wasn't too far from the truth. I bit down into his neck. Hard. He gripped my shoulders, trying to push me off him, but I simply bit down even harder than was humanly possible, and eventually he stilled.

I sucked on a dry, dead, artery when I finally came to. I let him fall. It was poetic, almost. Another giggle erupted while I felt my grimace, trying to stop my other self from pushing through. I needed to see Lacroix. I struggled to remember what elevator I had used when I went here with my sire, did it even matter? I figured not, and simply clicked the button behind the desk. The elevator came quickly, all too quickly for my taste.

* * *

My movements had been sluggish up until this point. Now they felt erratic. I couldn't, wouldn't, stand still for too long. I needed to move lest I'd begin tearing at my own skin again.

Lacroix was waiting for me when I walked into his office. He looked me up and down, before pushing a blood pack towards me, over his desk. He knew, I realized. He knew what I felt. How I felt. Why I felt it.

I grabbed the blood pack and brought it to my trembling lips. _"I would have preferred had you not killed my security guard,"_ he said after I bit into the pack. "_However, since your sire was an incompetent idiot, I guess I can't blame you_".

Despite agreeing with him, I didn't like the idea of my sire being called an idiot. Why, I didn't know. It wasn't like I knew the man... vampire. It just felt, wrong. Like how you would instantly defend your family if someone else insulted them. _"This, however, leaves me in a predicament."_ He continued, obviously expecting me to listen. I froze when his eyes met mine. _"In a predicament with what to do with you"._

They weren't kind eyes nor evil. They were, for the lack of better words, indifferent. I felt myself looking at him like a child, not quite understanding what he meant. He sighed, dragging his hand up over his head and into his hair. He never struck me as a man who would show humanity in a way like that. Funny how things change.

_"I can, if you accept, hire you as an employee in this company,"_ he said, looking me over. _"It would require you to dress more appropriately and not like you just burst your way out of an insane asylum, though"._ I looked at his serious face and found my maddening side threatening to spill over. I giggled. His eyebrow had shot up, questioning why I giggled.

_"An astute observation,"_ I simply responded, laughter still in my voice. Despite laughing, my voice sounded a bit hoarse and a bit too clogged for my taste. His smirk showed he understood my comment, and unlike my sire, who would maniacally laugh at a comment like that, Lacroix took the whole thing with a lot more calm and was more collected than my sire could ever be.

Lacroix began talking then, even though his voice changed with the words and meanings, I zoned out. It wasn't until I saw my reflection in the window I remembered. I cut him off mid-sentence and a look of annoyance swept over his face. "_What happened to my sire?"_ I asked the jester prince. My voice had definitely lost any grace it had. Instead I more or less croaked out the responses and questions. "_He was_," Lacroix hesitated before continuing. "_Taken care of_."

We both knew what that meant. "_oh_", I simply said. I wasn't sure whether or not he was expecting a different reaction, or if the one I had given him was enough.

Sun is rising soon, he said as he rose to look out over his city. With his back turned to me, I could clearly see his stiff posture. The epitome of a Ventrue, I thought to myself. His office certainly looked like something monarchs would use.

_"Since I don't quite trust you out among the rest of the city; you will be living here, in the tower."_ He said it with a finality I didn't dare to question. _"Do you understand, Victoria?"_ My head jerked up at the mention of my name. I nodded. _"It's only temporary, I assure you,"_ he said with a small smirk on his face. _"Elizabeth will see that you're accommodated"._ I nodded again and felt a smaller hand touch my arm. A woman was standing next to me. Her hair was put up in a tight bun, and her face was adorned with heavy makeup. She was, I realized, very much human. I raised my hand to touch her face when Lacroix cleared his throat. I stopped in the air.

Looking over to him, I realized his position was even more regal than before. _"Elizabeth may be human, but you're not to feed from her or any other employees of this organization. You will be fed via blood packs, do I make myself clear?"_ It was directed as a question, but I knew that look in his eyes. It wasn't up for debate. _"Crystal clear,"_ I said and couldn't help but to giggle.

He quizzed an eyebrow and I merely shook my head, biting my lip. It was impossible to explain what I found funny. Ironic, sure, but funny? Not really and yet I could laugh at it the entire night unless I forced it down.

Elizabeth eventually led me to my room and I crashed in my bed. I barely noted a human presence in the room afterward. However, I was quite sure it was her, Elizabeth, making sure everything was in correct order and the blinds were properly closed.

When I finally slipped into what's considered "sleep" for kindred, the insanity took the form of nightmares. I have never slept as comfortably as I did that night.


	4. The Toaster Must Die

A/N: So, Victoria is far from sane. I hope the changes back and forth makes somewhat sense. Her attention is really like a child's or person someone suffering from some disease that makes it impossible for them to focus on one thing specifically.

I got a basic plot idea in my head, but I'm going to assume that it's up for discussion and revisions. And the switching between 'you' and 'I', they are for the most part on purpose to make it much more clear that she's completely bonkers.

* * *

When I woke up in the bed, I sat up and stared at the wall. I did that until Elizabeth walked in with a fresh blood pack in her hand. Her high heeled shoes clicking on the floor grated on my ears.

She left the pack on the night table and fled the room. Elizabeth didn't seem to like my insanity too much. I was still sitting like that, Indian style; facing the wall, until I deemed it had been punished enough. I swear I heard it laugh at me as I turned my back to it, hungrily grabbing the pack and drinking the red liquid.

I decided to ignore it, lest I'd throw something at it. The toaster had been starting to behave badly as well, and so I decided I need to get rid off it. Planning murder wasn't fun, but I knew it had to be done.

Before I could finish plotting the murder, the jester prince decided to graze me with his presence. He followed my gaze to the toaster and merely shook his head. "_I have a job for you, Victoria"_. His tone wasn't kind, but not really 'mean' either. It was, like most other times, indifferent. Perhaps a tad bit on the bored side.

I nodded and only looked at him when he cleared his throat. _"You should probably go get that checked up,"_ I kindly offered. Having recently suffered a clogged up throat, I felt his pain.

His lips twitched in an amused smile before he handed me an envelope. _"I need you to give this to Therese Voerman." _He said while handing an envelope to me. "_And only her,_" he added. I looked at the envelope. It said her name on it. I traced the ink when I took the envelope from his cold hands. It was a beautiful handwriting. Very elegant.

"_Where can I find this worm?" _I asked. He looked quizzical before he understood my phrasing. _"She can be found at the Asylum in Santa Monica. It's close to a diner and the medical center, shouldn't be too hard to miss."_ I nodded, trying to take in the information and find a way for me to remember it. I knew the place, I realized. It was where I had met my idiotic sire.

"_Can you write that up for me?"_ I asked sweetly. I knew what club he meant, but I was strangely attached to his handwriting. It made me slightly jealous the two-faced worm was going to get a letter with his writing on it, and I got nothing. He sighed, looking a bit annoyed. "_Please?_" I asked regal man who regarded me with a frown. "_I'll have Elizabeth write it up," _he replied with a scoff.

That... annoyed me slightly. _"I might lose the letter," _I told him. _"It's utmost important it's you who write down the instructions."_

He sighed, more annoyed by the minute and walked out to what I presumed was the direction of his office. I pouted and rose from my bed. I headed to the toaster and picked it up. It truly looked evil. Its yellow-brown color was hideous, I realized. It needed to die. And soon.

I didn't notice that Lacroix was standing behind me. It wasn't until he spoke to me that I realized he was onto my plan. "_Plotting to kill the toaster?" _ He asked from behind me. I glanced back, smirking a bit. _"Only if it attacks me first."_ I muttered under my breath. He must have heard it anyway, for his lips twitched a bit in amusement. I felt oddly content. "_Here's the instructions,_" he said while handing me a parchment with his handwriting.

He must have seen how hard I clutched the paper, and how close I held it to me. If he did see it, he didn't say anything at all. It was odd... He was more like a sire to me than my original sire. The one who had turned me, not my alcoholic father. I remembered my mother. And my father. Alicia. I needed to talk to her.

"_Am I dead in the eye of the government?_" I asked the silent man. The question was out of the blue, I realized. He looked a bit surprised but madness and sanity... they didn't wait for anyone to catch up. I needed answers, especially now when my sanity had pushed away my insanity, if only for a tiny moment. He must have noticed the change in my behavior for he actually answered my question.

"_As of March 18__th__ 2003, 'Victoria Avery Smith' is considered dead by the United States of America,"_ he responded smoothly. _"You were burned badly after crashing a car on your way home from Santa Monica. __You had left__your hometown __with one of your friends. __You wanted to go home after partying too much. __You were drunk __and crashed the car into a railing. __Nothing was left of you, except your dental records." _

He spoke everything in one fluid motion, like he had rehearsed and then rehearsed it again. "_They were faked, of course_".

I nodded, biting my lip slightly before looking up towards the noble vampire again. _"What of the golden haired mistress?"_ I asked, thinking of Alicia's smiling eyes. He looked at me. Silent. Pondering. _"Is Alicia dead?" _I asked, forcing away the cackling voices in my head. "_She's alive,_" He answered, but offered nothing else worth mentioning.

He was at the door before he stopped and turned slightly towards me again. _"There's a dress in the closet that should fit you._ _Elizabeth will take your measurements later on and buy custom made clothing for you." _

He paused slightly. "_You should not try to contact anyone who has to do with your previous life. It's a violation of the masquerade". _

I nodded and he left me standing at the counter, toaster still in my hands. It truly was an evil toaster.

* * *

It took me three hours to get ready. Two of these were spent glaring at the toaster and contemplating if I should bring it with me, and throw it off a bridge. A look from Elizabeth had made me put the toaster away on the counter and put on the black dress. My hair was still a mess and the makeup-wearing woman had offered to get it sorted out. I had accepted, sort-of. I guess a movement up and down with my chin was enough for it to be considered an acceptance.

As I sat on a chair, she pulled and yanked my hair. I didn't really care. Physical pain was welcome in comparison to the maddening cackle that seemed to live inside my head now. Physical pain I could deal with, the sometimes inhumane voices didn't help me too much. _"Why is a human working for a person like Lacroix?"_ I asked after what felt like forever. Then again, keeping track of time wasn't, and still isn't, a forte of mine.

I heard no answer and licked my lips, unsure whether or not I should repeat the question or take the silence as an answer in itself.

"_I..." _she began. She fumbled with the words, a few 'hmm' and 'um' slipped out. I realized she hadn't even spoken to me before. Her voice was soft and low, not like I imagined from a person like herself. _"I don't know," _she finally concluded.

I nodded and she yanked a bit more on the hair. "_Sometimes,"_ I began, unsure where I would take this conversation. "_Sometimes, we just do things. There doesn't have to be a reason"._ She stopped working on my hair, and even though I didn't see anything I felt her nod a bit behind myself.

Continuing,_ "I shouldn't have gone to Santa Monica. I never broke my parents' trust, __I always complied with their wishes__ and yet this time I thought it was fine._" I chuckled slightly. _"And look where I ended up."_ I glanced up towards her face and saw for the first time ever, a look that was more than indifferent. _"__Sometimes we just do things that go against logic and reasoning," _I concluded.

When she was finished, I felt less like a stranger in this place. It felt as if my sanity had more to cling to. I liked that feeling.

Unfortunately, sanity and insanity intermingle. They battle each other constantly. Sanity was a losing battle this time around. When I stepped outside of the taxi, I felt truly like a small cog in a much bigger clockwork, unsure from where I had received that knowledge.

I hurried to the club and stepped into the mouth of the two-faced worm's lifework. The music was killing my ears and the amount of people dancing and humping each other made me feel nauseated.

The instructions were clear enough, only Therese Voerman was to receive the letter. I glanced down at the purse I had been instructed to carry with me. Inside was some change, a pen, a notepad, a cellphone, and the instructions given by Lacroix. Of course the letter for Ms. Worm was also located somewhere inside the depths. I chuckled at my own mind and went forward to the bartender. His eyes raked me over. He was big. Arms filled with tattoos. I thought I was going to be sick. Like always, I mused.

His eyes glinted at me before asking what I wanted. My reply came out as well-rehearsed as I hoped it would. I added with a sweet smile,_ "I'm expected"_. I honestly didn't know if I was that or not, I hoped Lacroix had felt the need to warn the woman I was expecting to see with my peculiar condition. My guess was that he didn't need to. We were all batshit crazy regardless of our affliction. Not that it made much sense.

"_The elevator is back there,"_ he said while nodding me off. The way to the elevator was easy enough, even though it required me to contort my body is some weird angles to avoid touching any of the feeble humans. They... distracted me. And not in the same way my bedroom wall, or toaster, had.

The ride up was also dull. The walls had stopped talking to me, I noted while staring down at the dark floor. Once I reached the end of the pipe, I knocked the door to which I presumed was her office. A stern voice beckoned me in. The woman I assumed to be Therese Voerman stood in the middle of the room, arms behind her back and eyes fixed on a gigantic painting, but dead, painting.

I felt taken a bit back and stopped just inside the door. She caught my eyes and smiled with a stern eye fixed on me. Beckoning me closer, I felt like a deer in a headlight. "_Lacroix informed me that you had something for me, young one."_

Her patronizing tone made me boil within. Clowns. Yes. She was a clown, or had she been one? My mind wandered and contorted, making me shift uncomfortable in the same spot.

"_Yes._" I forced myself to choke out while fishing out the letter from my bag. I handed it to her, then made an attempt to move out of the way. Out, back there. To the club. To a place where I could sink my teeth into someone's beating neck.

"_Insanity isn't always so bad, little one,"_ she said. I turned around, just a bit, and she was still reading the letter. _"The occasional slip will happen less and less, the more you get used to the depths of your mind."_

I ransacked my brain for a reply that would sound coherent, but found nothing to reply to her monologue. My mouth opened and closed. I registered nothing of my own voice. _"For someone who only shows one face, your advice ring hollow,"_ I spoke. The voice was mine, albeit a bit more huskier. "_Ah,_" I thought. I was no longer just 'me'. I was her, and her, and him. So many voices, battling over my body and my thoughts. It was... scary.

She glanced up, jaw clenched. _"You may leave now, Malkavian." _She said with finality. "_I will deliver a reply to your Prince tomorrow". _

"_Only my Prince, or yours too?" _I heard myself ask. Cocking my head to the side, I looked at her with squinted eyes. "_Does he know your plot, two-faced worm? Or are the tongues still in session."_ She looked up at me, nostrils flaring. _"Leave,"_ she said with a stern tone. "_Now."_

I spun around and left the room with a bit more force than I knew I possessed. My head was having a party of its own, and my sanity was not invited. I couldn't help but to shake my head, feeling this is not how it should have gone. This was not how it should have happened. I bit my lip, looking up at the elevator's ceiling.

"_Not how it should have gone..." _I whispered to myself. I only briefly heard how I responded to my own question, "_then how should it have gone? Should you have played the nice girl, keeping your tone sweet and eyes down?_"

I shook my head, unsure what to reply._ "You can no longer keep pretending you're outside of things. We know... we know so much. It needs to get out..."_. The voices trailed off and I swallowed my own spit. It tasted blood. And a distinct taste and smell of salt invaded my senses.

* * *

Years have gone by since the last time my voices made themselves known. I had been 10 years old or so, and I had just gotten myself an invisible friend. It was odd, but not unheard of for older children to have playmates like that. When my parents became concerned for me and my... playmates, I pretended the playmate had "gone away to play with other children". They dropped the issue and I could tell they were very relieved.

Little did they know my playmate was still there, and so were his cousins, sisters, brothers and every other relative of his. He spoke highly of his wife, who he had killed when she dropped a plate on the floor. He didn't joke around. I admired that.

Although I told him I would never kill anyone because they dropped a plate. He said he never thought he would do that either, and look where he was now.

You had chuckled, not at the response, but because you couldn't see him at all. That was amusing. We both thought that. Except he... he had gotten mad. I still remember your screams.

* * *

Lacroix wasn't as mad as I thought he would be. In fact, he had a small smirk present on his lips when I walked into his sparingly decorated "office". "_Well,_" he started as he sat in his chair, half turned to me. "_I guess I should have expected you to piss Ms. Voerman off_". He glanced over at me, half expecting me to start laughing with him. Oh wait, that wasn't how Mr. Lacroix worked. That was silly of me.

I didn't laugh. No. My eyes were fixed on something else. "_Is something wrong?_" He asked, tone still playful but only a tad bit on the bored side. I had learned a great deal when it came to his voice. When or how, I didn't know. His eyebrows were knitted together as if he was concerned for something. I shook my head, both to answer his question and to clear my mind. I approached him anyway. He didn't say anything, but a glint had appeared in his eyes.

I knelt next to him, my fingers gently touching his protruding cheekbones. He sat still, looking at me. My trembling fingers dropped to his cheeks, caressing them, going up to touch his nose ever so softly. It was so straight.

Even if I could have controlled my movements, I wouldn't have done anything to stop what I just had done and was currently doing. I allowed my fingers to trace down and to find his lips. He still made no movement to push me away. He almost leaned into my fingers, and when I moved them over to his mouth, he opened them ever so slightly. As if to say something, or as if to kiss them. I still don't know which.

When he finally took my hand away from his face, I felt like I had crossed a boundary none of us knew we had put up. His hand was cold, but soft. He wasn't mad at me, but his tone and demeanor showed he wasn't happen over this turn of events.

"_Good night,"_ I said while standing up and moving to go to my room. He had gripped my hand ever so slightly before I had the chance to move. "_Good night, Victoria._" He whispered. I moved quickly to the door and headed to my room, away from the strange man.

Well inside my room I took a glance at the toaster. The yellow-brown machine was still standing on the counter top where I had left it earlier today. Without any hesitation I took it by the metal part, went to my window, opened it and unceremoniously threw the evil toaster out the window.

Chuckling I threw myself on the bed just as Elizabeth knocked and walked in. She glanced at the counter top, raised an eyebrow at me before going to pull the blinds down._ "It was evil,"_ I said from my bed, still chuckling like a mad woman. "_Yes,"_ she said a bit out of sorts. "_It was a hideous thing."_

Elizabeth closed the window and smiled at me before leaving me to my hibernation.


End file.
